


Fundamental Difference

by jedishampoo



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: F/M, Het
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-29
Updated: 2010-05-29
Packaged: 2017-10-09 18:51:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/90445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jedishampoo/pseuds/jedishampoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gojyo/Yaone: Yaone serves her lord well, but sometimes she wants things for herself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fundamental Difference

**Title: Fundamental Difference**  
**Author:** jedishampoo  
**Rating:** NC-l7  
**Pairing:** Gojyo/Yaone (HETOMG)  
**Summary:** Saiyuki: Yaone serves her lord well, but sometimes she wants things for herself.  
**Author's notes:** This was written for **akuchan47**[****](http://akuchan-47.livejournal.com/) in the [**valentine_smut**](http://community.livejournal.com/valentine_smut/) exchange, and I just realized I hadn’t posted it to my journal, yet. Thank you to my lovely beta [**sharpeslass**](http://sharpeslass.livejournal.com/), and to [**mercifulkanzeon**](http://mercifulkanzeon.livejournal.com/) for her patience and work on this exchange!

**Fundamental Difference**

The bracelet was called a youkai power limiter. Whenever Yaone put it on, she could feel it living up to its name: her ears lost their long, pretty points and her teeth and nails retracted and were caged in mere echoes of their true forms. Even her hair straightened and thinned and lay meekly over her shoulders, and her strength dwindled to nearly negligible levels.

It was all very vexing and... _limiting_. Yaone was proud of being youkai. Still, she had to admit that there was also some freedom in being nondescript and unnoticed. To sit in a tavern surrounded by humans and to watch them without being molested or exciting fearful attention.

As long as she didn't remove her bracelet, why, she could do whatever she wanted out of the shadows of Houtou. She could shop. She could visit her fellow apothecaries and discuss the latest discoveries. She could eat in a tavern and... and... even talk to attractive men like other girls did.

But she wasn't like other girls, and she hadn't crept out of Houtou Castle to do those things. She had a plan, a noble purpose: to help Lord Kougaiji, to prepare for when he would need her and her friends the most. The shadows of Houtou weren't all malevolent, as long as he lived there and she loved-- served-- him. Her life was not about freedom, and, furthermore, had not been since her parents had given her over to Hyakugan Maoh to save their shop, or village, or whatever her price had been.

Yaone was no longer the meek girl she'd been then. Most of the time. Doing this-- going out on her own and fulfilling a plan that she'd devised on her own-- would only help her become stronger and more self-assured, she told herself. The better to love-- to serve-- her lord.

Fortune had so far favored her plan. She'd intercepted the most current report on the Sanzo party's position, then escaped the castle unnoticed. She'd even found Mr. Gojyo alone.

Well, not alone, exactly. The rest of the Sanzo party was nowhere to be seen, but Gojyo was in a somewhat crowded tavern, playing cards at a table with three other men, with an additional two women leaning over him and offering encouragement. Their breasts decorated his shoulders like epaulettes.

Yaone looked down to make sure her own, admittedly ultra-feminine figure was concealed by her loose clothing. Mr. Gojyo was, by many accounts, a lecher, a real animal with the ladies. She hadn't found him to be obviously so, and Dokugakuji maintained that his little brother was a 'good kid' when he wasn't marveling at his following 'that asshole Genjyo Sanzo.' Still, she was here on business and wanted to keep it that way.

Yaone watched and waited. The minutes she'd spent examining Gojyo had enlightened her to the fact that he was very handsome, even when rather debauched by drink and gambling. With his hair pulled back his features seemed finer than she'd thought, and the twin scars on his cheek only enhanced his-- admittedly attractive-- roguish air. The red of his hair was lovely, its color even brighter than Lord Kougaiji's, though Mr. Gojyo lacked her lord's noble gaze, of course. Still, he was very good-looking. And, as it became quite clear, very drunk.

He was laughing too loudly and forgetting his cigarettes in the ashtray next to him-- at one point he'd had three burning at once. As Yaone watched, Gojyo swayed forward in his chair like he might pass out face-down in the messy pile of coins and bills in front of him on the table. But he recovered and haul-shoveled the pile back off the table and onto his lap.

"Gettin' too drunk to play," he confirmed, patting a giggling girl's bottom when she bent over to pick up some coins he'd knocked onto the floor. _The pig_. Yaone found it difficult to remember the chivalry he'd displayed when she'd been posing as a waitress and had been groped so rudely by others.

"But not too drunk ta drink," he continued, standing tall-- very tall-- on wobbly feet and clutching a bunched cloth filled with his winnings. "I'll get the last coupla rounds. Least I can do. Later."

With that he tottered off, leaving the men and the pouting girls behind. Yaone followed.

He was dumping his money into a bucket at the bar when she tapped his shoulder. "Mr. Gojyo?" she whispered.

Gojyo turned and looked at her blearily, his striking red eyes ringed with more flushes of red. "Yeah? Hey..." His eyebrows drew down and he began looking around, presumably for her friends. "What're you doing here? Yaone, right? Your boss run off again?"

"I'm here alone," Yaone said in a low voice, showing her empty palms. "Lord Kougaiji is recovered. And I'm not here to fight."

"Really." After a final sharp look around the bar, he leered at her. "Sorry, babe. Hakkai ain't here."

"What? Oh, I'm not looking for Mr. Hakkai." And Yaone wasn't. She'd written him into her exigency plans but was glad to not have to deal with him. Things tended to become... uncertain, when he was around. She may not have been the meek girl of her past, but she still had all her old weaknesses and-- and she wasn't here to be weak. She straightened and looked directly into Gojyo's eyes. Gojyo, she felt certain she could handle. "I'd... like to talk to you."

"Huh? Hah. Well, well. I always thought you were awfully cute, ya know. Can't hide the cute, even in that sack you're wearin'--"

He smiled a very sexy and distracting smile and put a hand on her hip and she could feel it, warm, even through the bunched, thick cloth of her baggy tunic. "No! You-- here." Yaone grabbed a capsule from her pocket and snapped it under Gojyo's nose.

"Hey! Are you tryin' to poison me?" he cried, but inhaled, which was the important thing. He started to back away but a second later the powder took effect. He stared at her. "Hey. My head's clear."

"That's all the powder does, I assure you, Mr. Gojyo. Please, can we go somewhere to talk? I need--"

"Wow, that's good stuff," he interrupted. He shook his head and stared around the bar as if he hadn't seen it before. "You oughta give me some of that for when Sanzo's bein' a bitchy--"

"Mr. Gojyo!" Yaone said, trying to keep her voice low. "I need to talk with you, please. It's business, and it's very important!"

"All right, babe. But you gotta drop the 'mister.'" Gojyo clasped her elbow with light, polite fingers and steered her towards a table. "Just Gojyo. I'm rooming with the monkey, so the table in the corner's gonna have to do. Unless you wanna go outside?"

"The table will be fine, Mr.-- Gojyo," Yaone said, determined to remain prim in the face of his too-warm touch. Yaone was _never_ touched by men. At times she thought it a shame. It was _freedom from_, however, even within the blighted, debauched halls of Houtou, and as such she supposed she should call it and appreciate it.

Strangely, Gojyo seemed conscious of her train of thought. "Sorry about that, by the way. The grabby. I know you don't-- well, hey, I was gettin' pretty smashed, and you are awful cute," he said, looking at her out of the corners of his eyes.

Yaone sniffed. "So when you're drunk, you become a lecher?"

Gojyo laughed and pulled out a chair for her. "Nah, I'm always a lecher."

Yaone wasn't sure if she should believe him. She sat and looked at him and laced her fingers together atop her lap to keep them still. It was best to forge ahead, to keep her plan's lucky momentum going, and not to think about how tall he was, or how much better-looking he was with his lips not slackened by liquor, or to look at the calluses on his fingers. She'd always had a weakness for men who were rough on the outside and kind on the inside, like the blacksmith-lover her parents had so mightily disapproved of, or even Lord Kougaiji--

\--Lord Kougaiji, he for whom she was here, the service to him which drove her ultimate purpose. _Forge ahead, momentum, yes_. Yaone took a deep breath.

"Mis-- Gojyo, would you please give me a sample of your blood?"

Gojyo stared at her. "My _blood_."

"A blood sample," she confirmed. "From you."

"That's a goddamned weird thing to ask for." Gojyo's red eyes were wide. He leaned back and lit a cigarette, though he was kind enough to blow his smoke off to the side. "What're you gonna do? Clone me?"

"No, of course not!"

"Mix up something to take control of me?"

"No. It's for Dokugaku-- your brother." Now that she was trying to explain the situation, it sounded strange even to her own ears. It was so easy to forget that he and his friends were her enemies. "You share a father, so you should be a near match. I can create a backup potion that will--"

"Turn me into a zombie?" Gojyo interrupted her again. "Turn _him_ into a zombie?"

"What? How ridiculous," Yaone said, and then she noticed his expression; he was rocking back in his chair and his eyes were crinkled at the corners, and his lips were tight like they were fighting not to smile. "You're teasing me," she accused.

"Who, me? It's not a dumb question. We are enemies, after all."

And he'd said it before, not long ago: enemies fight, and there was nothing strange about that. Except it had been a long time since they'd actually fought. Yaone sighed. She felt rather silly, but was surprisingly not unhappy with the feeling. Nor was she unhappy with the way Gojyo's legs were spread, his pants catching tightly across his thighs.

"I suppose you are correct," she said, trying not to grin back at him. She fought her brain for the right words, the way to make her plan sound as important to him as it was to her. "But Dokugakuji is not my enemy. In fact, he is very dear to me. I have Lord Kougaiji and Lady Lirin for each other, but only you for Doku. A blood sample from you could save his life. And there are-- there are other forces at work against us, whom I deem more of a threat even than you."

Gojyo rocked forward in his chair. "The brainwashers?"

"Yes," she said, trying to make it sound as if she would say no more on the subject. "I can pay you for the sample, or offer something in return, something that will perhaps assure you of my good intentions."

His nose had scrunched at the word _pay_, but then he quirked one eye in a half-wink. He leaned forward.

"I'm tryin' to think of what you have that I'd want, sweetheart," he said in a low, seductive tone.

Yaone gasped in outrage and scrunched her elbows in to cover herself. "I'm not trading sexual favors!"

Gojyo snapped back into his seat as if she'd slapped him. He looked shocked-- true shock, not the coy-slimy-shock she'd seen on other men. "I didn't ask you to! Sheesh."

Yaone had realized her mistake even before he'd told her. She straightened her arms at her sides and raised her chin. "You are correct, and I apologize. I have respect for you or I would never have asked you for such a thing in the first place."

Gojyo snorted but his body edged back into its former slouch. He tapped his cigarette into the ashtray and didn't look at her. "Well, I guess I did say I was a lecher."

"I'd like to forge ahead," Yaone told him. "I have things I can offer you. I have more of the antimyco-- the sobering pills. I will give you a sample of my final mixture from Doku-- from your brother," she said, thinking that any mention of family could only help her cause. The brothers might be on different sides of this conflict and they certainly argued whenever they met, but they were still brotherly in a way that Yaone thought was very sweet. "It could help you, if you are ever injured and lose a lot of blood, or if your own DNA is... compromised. I can give you a camouflage capsule and teach you some methods to help you defeat Zakuro's illusions, should you meet him again in battle."

Gojyo snorted again and stubbed out his cigarette. "That asshole? I don't need any help to kick his ass."

Yaone leaned back in her own chair and crossed her legs in their loose trousers. "Not as long as Dokugakuji is around, of course."

"Wha--" Gojyo began, narrowing his eyes, but then he laughed and rocked his chair back against the wall. "Ya got me. Damn, woman. All right. How about you tell us how to defeat your boss a little more easily next time he gets all messed up and comes 'round?"

Yaone shook her head. She very much liked his throaty laughter and the fact that he seemed willing to entertain her request, but what he asked was impossible. "No. I could never betray my Lord Kougaiji, even if I don't believe in Lady-- I won't do it. Zakuro, yes. Camouflage capsule. And a sample of the ferrosulfication compound from Dokugakuji. Mr. Hakkai might be glad to have such a thing."

"Funny that you bring him up," Gojyo said, lighting another cigarette and doing that sexy half-wink thing again. "Or wait. You're in love with Kougaiji, aren't you?"

Yaone was not going to discuss her most private feelings with Gojyo, no matter how comfortable she was feeling with him. She looked at the dark-beamed ceiling rather than at his sly face. "I'm not discussing me, but your friend Mr. Hakkai, whom I respect very much, and who, even if you do not care, would be glad to have such a thing if you were ever injured."

There were a few moments of silence. Yaone finally tore her gaze from the air to look back at him. He blew out a cloud of smoke-- again to the side-- and grinned. "Damn, woman," he said once more. "Deal. Can I get another drink before ya bleed me, or does the antimyco-pill-thingy keep me from enjoying booze ever again?"

Yaone felt herself grin back at him. She was pleased at his capitulation, at his white-toothed smile, and at the fact that he'd remembered the half-name of the sobering capsule. She truly wished, as she never had before, that her group and his were not even half-hearted enemies. "The antimycocapatracin is already gone from your system. I'm very good at what I do. My lord depends upon me."

"Cool. Watch this for me," Gojyo said, and scooted his money-bucket under the table. Then he went to the bar to get a drink.

In a very gentlemanly gesture he returned with a drink for her as well, a very good dark beer. Yaone gave him a handful of sobering capsules, and the camouflage capsule with instructions to keep it near the upper half of his body, as near to his face as possible. Breaking it would block Zakuro's gaze and give the user time to deploy another weapon. Zakuro required a crucial few seconds to fully latch the illusions onto his victim; Yaone felt no guilt whatsoever in sharing that little fact with Gojyo.

She told him he could draw his own blood, and handed him a little self-sealing tube and needle. Gojyo looked at it, then at his arm, and then at her before pushing up his sleeve and jabbing the needle into the crook of his elbow. He barely winced at the stick and Yaone gave him an encouraging smile.

"Not like I haven't already left my damned blood over half of Shangri-La," he mumbled as he handed her the filled tube.

"You were very brave," she teased. She capped the needle and tucked the tube away in one of her safest pockets. Then she stood and looked down at him, an unfamiliar perspective. "It will take a week or so for me to create the compound, but I can find you again. Try to be alone now and then, or your friends may attack me."

"Dunno about that," Gojyo murmured and rubbed his elbow. He stood as well. "And since I was so brave, can I flirt with you just a little before you go?"

"What a weird thing to ask," Yaone told him in a significant tone. He was so very tall. He looked nothing like his brother, though they were both very attractive men. She began to feel warm where he was not touching her. She crossed her arms over her chest and then caught herself doing it, and forced her hands to relax at her sides. "Just a _very_ little."

Gojyo was good; he leaned over suggestively and cocked his arm and held it in the air above her head, looking almost as if he was resting it against a wall. "So, sweetheart. You got a thing for redheads?" he asked in that low voice she found all-too appealing.

"Perhaps just a _very_ little," Yaone repeated. Before he could react she pushed herself to her tiptoes and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. His skin was warm and slightly stubbly. Then she ducked under his arm and headed for the door. "There are very many in this world, after all. Goodnight, Mr. Gojyo," she called as she tripped out of the tavern.

Outside it was clear but chilly, much colder than it had been when she'd arrived. Yaone curled her arms about her sides to ward off the chilled air, and smiled at nobody as she hugged herself. It was going to be a cold ride home, and that bothered her not at all.

  
***

  
It was nearly two weeks before Yaone could catch the Sanzo party again, but she didn't necessarily count the delay as a setback to her plan. For she'd had two weeks not only to work, but to think about Gojyo, and how she might repay his trust, and how she might repay herself.

Perhaps she did have feelings for Lord Kougaiji, but she currently served him as an employee and friend. To pressure him, in any way, to change that, would only add to his great load of worries-- at least for the time being. In the meantime, she was an attractive, young woman-- self-assured, or at least growing so-- if a little lonely. And there existed, in the world, men who were special, who treated her as if she were special-- Gojyo among them. That she might enjoy her life in little ways, at her discretion, was a very freeing thought.

Her luck had continued in ways unimaginable. When she found Gojyo, a little detective work revealed that he had a room to himself. She let herself into it, removed her cloak and waited.

After a while the door opened, and Yaone felt brief panic when she heard multiple voices in the hallway-- was he not returning alone?-- but it was only his tall, leanly muscled silhouette outlined in the open door.

Yaone rose from behind a chair when the door clicked shut. "Gojyo? It's Yaone," she whispered.

"Whoah!" Gojyo's arm extended, but then he relaxed it and stared at her. "Ya startled me. Whoah!"

Yaone had forgone the freedom-from limiter bracelet for this visit, as well as the loose clothing she'd worn before, opting to travel in a simple shift-dress. She hoped his noise was one of appreciation. "I have something for you," she said.

Gojyo put his hands on his hips, showing off his tightly slim body in a way that set very saucy tickles dancing in her stomach. He grin-leered at her. "You look way cuter as a youkai. You know that?" he said.

"Thank you," Yaone said. She watched him watching her as she walked closer, very close, and then stood on tiptoe to kiss him again, this time on the lips. Her heart pounded nervous excitement through her chest and ears and every one of her limbs, and her hair felt sproingy and alive and would she ever live it down if he rejected her?

But after a surprised _mmph_ he kissed her back, his warm fingers clasping her waist. She thought he _was_ very likely a ladies' man, because he kissed very nicely, with soft, breathy lips and a slow, venturing tongue. He tasted a little like smoke-- it must be the cigarettes-- and it was something she'd never tasted before on a man.

She'd never been so _bold_ before. It was unbearably exciting, like his soft _mmmms_ into her mouth. His fingers squeezed her waist more tightly and the tickles in her belly swelled into thumping little aches.

The kissing was lovely but she couldn't help it: she pulled away a few centimeters to look at him, to see his face and gauge his reaction. Her toes curled to match her hair when he opened his eyelids halfway, because sultry looked good on him. And his eyes were so pretty, like the color of Lord Kougaiji's hair in candlelight.

"Mmm. That's awesome, sweetheart, but, uh--" he began, and Yaone's heart thumped painfully against her ribs at that but. "Uh. I'm not the settling-down type, you know. Uh."

Yaone's heart started beating normally again, or at least returned to its previous excited throb. She grabbed a handful of his soft hair behind his neck and shoved her body against every inch of him that she could reach, and her body thanked her for it. "I should certainly hope not," she whispered, feeling the heat in her cheeks as it doubled.

His chuckle sent her temperature skyrocketing. "Well, now that we got that covered," he said, and then stopped talking and started kissing her again.

It was empowering to be so wanton with someone she trusted, even an enemy. Being a woman was often confusing and sometimes glorious. Yaone's breasts ached into the thin material sandwiched between their bodies, as she stretched herself shamelessly against him.

Gojyo seemed to read her mind; he rubbed his palms more firmly and urgently along her sides, over the outer curve of her breasts, while she licked the inside of his smoky mouth and moaned her appreciation at him.

"Good thing I got a room to myself, darlin'," he whispered into the sensitive spot under her jaw. When his tongue swiped the inside of her ear Yaone yelped and jerked against him, and realized that at some point she'd hooked her leg around the back of his calves.

She could feel her own mad blush as she untangled her leg from his. "This isn't," she tried to tell him, but he was distracting her by licking along the points of her ears. "I don't normally do this kind of thing."

"Yeah, I didn't think--" he began as he led her toward the bed, or she led him, or something. They stumbled and fell onto it at the same time. "But maybe considering our rivalry, you could tell me why you're doing it now? Not that I'm complaining," he added, when she froze for a second.

Yaone writhed inside at being put on the spot, though she supposed he deserved an explanation, considering their rivalry, and the fact that she worked quite closely with his older brother. His _larger_ older brother.

The simple answer was that she wanted him. She kicked off her shoes and slid her hands under his shirt, to feel his skin, to keep the momentum going, and simply said it-- or at least as close to it as she could at that moment.

"I get lonely. And I'm a good servant, but sometimes I want to do something for me. And I-- I like you."

"Good to hear." Gojyo matched her movements, trailing his lovely, callused fingers along the short hem of her dress, teasing it up and over her thighs and belly. Yaone shivered at being exposed and at the touch of his lips along her jawline. He pulled away for a moment and she stilled in confusion, but when he licked her navel her stomach tried to jump out of her skin. She also tried to tear his shirt.

"Yeep," she said.

"Careful, there," he whispered to her belly. He stretched his arms out and let her yank his white shirt over his head. "Want me to show you how much I like ya back? You're gonna enjoy this, sweetheart."

Yaone stifled a giggle. Perhaps he was being a pig after all, but-- _oh!_\-- she was willing to forgive him that for the skill of his slick tongue, swirling and pushing right through all the sensitive folds between her thighs, up against the source of all the ache-- Her belly was heat and twitch and it flowed out to her knees, her feet, her arms that she let flop down to her sides. Oh, he was _good_.

"Oh," she whispered to him, again. After a few moments and a goodly number of blissful swipes of his tongue, the heat had worked its way back along her nerves to knot in her abdomen, under his thumbs pressed into her belly, and she arched her back and waited, waited--

And suddenly he stopped, and she was left with only a bereft throbbing between her legs and his smug, grinning face perched over her stomach.

"_Uh_unh," she griped.

"Sorry. You just sounded so cute."

She released a _pfft_ of exasperated breath and flopped her head back onto the pillow, waiting for him to get on with it. Once he did, the warm, wet prod of his tongue took no time at all to rebuild the throb, for it to swell and catch on the edge and spill over. Yaone was sure her strong thighs squeezed his ears rather painfully but she didn't care; for a few moments noble purpose was reduced to the clenching in her belly and then the slow ease of tension she hadn't known her heart carried.

Gojyo kissed his way up her stomach, trailing red hair along her skin and pulling her dress up with him. She let him yank it over her head and smiled at the white-toothed grin he offered her.

"It's been a very long time, Mis-- Gojyo," she said in thanks.

"I hear ya," he said. He kissed the outside of her lips softly.

At such an intimate gesture Yaone felt quite brazen and womanly. She unbuttoned his jeans, liking the way his stomach muscles jumped at the skritch of her nails on his skin. She liked his tight moan as she wrapped her fingers around his flushed, stiffened penis, and the way he whispered "Damn, woman" when she tossed her leg over his hips and dug her bare heel into his rear and urged him to just _get on with it, already_.

He was blessedly good at that, too, rocking in and against her in a deliberate rhythm. She kissed his sweaty collarbone because he was nothing like the poor but handsome blacksmith's apprentice she'd done this with before. She kindly held on tight and when, after a while, his movements became jerky and irregular, he kindly squeezed his hand between their pressed stomachs to tease the sensitized nub just above the sliding join of their bodies, and another climax burst from her, almost before she'd known it was imminent. She yelped, loudly, and he grunted and jerked a few, final thrusts inside her.

Gojyo slumped over her and Yaone breathed, catching up to the breaths she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Staccato thumps sounded in her ears, through her relaxed body, and she didn't know if it was her heart or his.

It was neither; someone was thumping the wall above her head.

"Keep it down, asshole," said a muffled voice.

"Oh, my," Yaone giggled breathlessly. "Was that Priest Sanzo?"

"Yeah," Gojyo laughed back, sounding rather breathless as well. "Pardon me for a sec," he said, before thumping back and yelling "Eat me, monk!" at the wall.

Yaone covered her mouth to laugh. It was all so ridiculous. And fun. Still, she didn't want to be caught here by Priest Sanzo. And she had been gone quite a while...

"I'd better leave," she whispered between her fingers.

"Screw him," Gojyo said aloud and rolled off of her. He grunted a bit as he unlatched and yanked up the window next to the bed. The outside air breathed in, cold against Yaone's sweaty skin.

Gojyo pulled up the jeans bunched halfway down his thighs and then reached in for a pack of cigarettes. He raised his eyebrow and tilted the pack at Yaone. She shook her head and pushed herself up to sit next to him.

"No, thank you. And I really do have to leave. Someone may be looking for me," she said. She swung her legs off the bed.

"You really don't have to abandon me, sweetheart," Gojyo said with a pout. Yaone thought it was rather sweet of him.

"I fear I do." Yaone found her dress on the floor and stood as she pulled it over her head. She found it strangely embarrassing to be watched while dressing, when undressing had been so easy. Still, she was glad she'd worn such a simple garment. She was becoming quite worldly, she thought. Then she remembered her original reason for her visit, and bent to pluck a small pouch from the cloak she'd concealed behind the chair. She shook the pouch at him. "The compound I promised you is in here, with instructions. Please be sure you give it to Mr. Hakkai. I'll leave it to you to explain how you came by it, but if you might not mention..."

"Don't count on Hakkai not knowing," Gojyo told her. He took the pouch and tucked it into a bag at the foot of the bed. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Yaone told him. She watched him for a few moments while he lit a cigarette and blew the smoke toward the window, where it was whisked outside by the breeze. He was still sweaty. The top button was undone on his jeans. She'd rather enjoyed that. She really did have to leave. "Just to warn you, Gojyo: things are becoming rather... tense. There are some rough battles ahead of us. Perhaps between us."

"Yeah." Gojyo nodded and smoked. Then he looked up at her, with his eyes the color of Lord Kougaiji's hair in candlelight. "Maybe you can look me up when this is over, yeah?"

Yaone smiled and fluffed her hair. He really was very sweet. "If I don't have someone else, maybe," she told him.

Gojyo grinned around his cigarette. "Damn, I'm second choice again."

Yaone shook her head, not trusting herself to speak as her heart squeezed inside her chest. She distracted herself by walking to the door and opening it with slow caution. She looked left and right down the empty hallway before stepping through. She gave Gojyo a fond wave _goodbye_, a wave he matched, and shut the door behind her.

Yaone was free to make many choices, and she chose to serve her Lord Kougaiji first. If there were to be second choices afterwards, she'd see about them when it was time.

  
**End.** _Thank you for reading! Comments, concrit loved._


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